Choice of Words
by Vash's Girl
Summary: LarsaxPenelo // When Larsa tells Penelo that he has a surprise to show her, the dancer is excited and curious all at once. What could it be? And why is she so floaty around the boy, anyway?
1. Smooth

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Final Fantasy XII_; it belongs to Square Enix. I am not making any profit off this fanfiction.

-o-o-

_**Author's Notes… **_

This takes place during the events at Jahara, so spoilers to anyone who hasn't gotten there yet. Also, I'm not very sure of Larsa's dialogue, despite how hard I've worked on it, so if anyone sees anything out of place, please inform me. I would greatly appreciate it!

-o-o-

_**Choice of Words**_

**Part One**

Smooth

-o-o-

"The power of men, and of magick. Of good, and of evil. It is often those who desire nethicite whom the nethicite itself desires."

There was the crunch of boots along the hard earth, and Ashe looked up to see a familiar face there, watching her intently, tilted up so that its owner could see her properly. She let out a small gasp, eyes widening in surprise.

"Larsa?" Penelo asked, stepping forward, her heart giving a startled beat in her chest. She wasn't quite sure what it meant, but what she did know was that she was excited to see him again.

-o-o-

Penelo waited until the others had dispersed to get food for the night to rush over to her previous savior. He was standing by himself near the bridge, his hands locked around a mast and his eyes appearing distant as he peered off into the night. He didn't seem to be looking at anything in particular, and when he heard her approach his head turned in her direction.

A soft smile graced his lips. "Penelo," he greeted, turning from the mast completely and beginning to walk towards her. "I am pleased to see that you are doing well. Last we saw one another, we were parting ways in Bhujerba." He made it sound like that had been a terrible time for him, and his smile even turned wistful.

"Me, too," she said breathlessly, and when his smile became amused, she realized what she had said and shook her head, laughing a little at herself. "I mean—yeah, I'm doing fine. What about you, Larsa?" She reached forward, touching her hand to his elbow, the silk of the sleeve there so smooth to the touch. Silk was a very expensive garment, and this alone was a sign of Larsa's royalty, or at least his wealth. She wondered why the others hadn't seen it before in the Lhusu Mines.

Penelo remembered Vaan mentioning something about how no one had really paid attention to what he was wearing, Penelo, and what did it matter, anyway? Clothes were clothes, and he could have easily stolen them from someone. To Penelo this seemed like a half-assed excuse, but that was Vaan for you. Besides, the others hadn't exactly _not _backed him on it.

"I have been better," he replied, not even tensing at her touch. She took comfort in that—he was familiar with her, even though they hadn't seen one another for a while. And he didn't look down on her touch, either, despite their different statuses in life. Larsa was a kind and caring young man. "But at this moment, I find myself… happy."

"Oh, because we're all going together to Mt. Bur-Omisace?" She blinked, looking back to his face to find him studying her intently.

"Yes, of course, but there is one other thing." When her expression only grew more quizzical, he stepped forward, light on his feet, his hands reaching out to take one of hers in both of his own. "A true blessing, I have the chance to travel with you again, Penelo. You are my dear friend."

"You hardly know me!" Penelo exclaimed quietly, careful to keep her voice down lest the others think that something was wrong. When Larsa tugged her back towards the bridge, she followed him, noting how he was a few inches shorter than her and yet still seemed so much older.

To her dismay, she couldn't stop the faint blush that began to color her cheeks, but like when he had shown up earlier in that afternoon, the answers as to why she felt so—_floaty_—continued to elude her. It wasn't that she didn't like Larsa, or that she did, it was just that she was normally such a sensible girl. Not to mention that Larsa was younger than her, and yet here she was, getting swept away by his gentle demeanor and flattering words.

_You have to remember that he's the son of the emperor that put Dalmasca in the condition that it is now_, she told herself firmly, but something in Larsa's green eyes made her remember back to the time he had saved her from the Bangaas in the mines. He had even sworn on his family's line that he would protect her. She could not dismiss something like that so easily.

"That matters not," he was already assuring her, his tranquil voice breaking through her thoughts.

"Larsa, where are we going?" she asked as they began crossing over the bridge and back towards the center of the village. Although she didn't really know why they called it a village, it was more like a fort than anything else. Then again, the Garif were already odd to start with… No, no, she shouldn't think that way…

"It is a small cove I discovered on my way here. Do not worry, it is not far from the village." He paused suddenly, and then turned around so quickly that she almost smashed right into him, barely stopping herself just in time. "You do wish to come, right—oh!" His hands shot out, gripping on to her elbows to steady her as her own hands flew forward, landing on his chest and supporting the majority of her weight.

"I'm sorry!" she cried, pulling away quickly and casting a glance over her shoulder to see where the others were gathered. They didn't look like they'd be leaving the fireside anytime soon, chatting with the Garif and making plans for the journey tomorrow. At least they hadn't heard all the commotion down by the bridge. She didn't want her time alone with Larsa to be cut short just yet.

"No, no, the fault is mine." Larsa shook his head, taking one of her hands again. "Forgive me—I can be terribly clumsy at times."

She frowned, tilting her head a little, eyeing him uncertainly, but when the earnest glint in his eyes didn't fade, she couldn't suppress a smile any longer. "Clumsy? Yeah, right." _You're really graceful. _

"I assure you, this is normal." When she laughed, he laughed with her, leading her back across the bridge, but this time she fell into step with him, content to be at his side, letting him have her hand. "Truly!" he insisted.

She shook her head, grinning. "No way, Larsa, you're just trying to make me feel better. I've seen how you walk—_I _couldn't manage something like that, and here people tell me that I've got such a perfect posture."

"You do!" He gestured idly with his free hand, towards the broad sky above them. "But you would think that with all the training they gave me, I would be more graceful in my movements. However, this is not the case. Every time I try to walk, I feel as though I am tripping over my own feet."

Penelo gave him a skeptical look. "Then why are you walking so gracefully right now?"

"I am trying to be impressive," he said with such a completely straight face that she burst out into more giggles. "Penelo!" he admonished. "Would I lie to you?"

"At this point, I don't think I'm too entirely sure," she confessed. "It must be your nobility—do they teach you to keep a straight face in the Solidor household?"

"Dear Penelo, you are too cruel," he said, sounding slightly wounded, although she could tell by the smile fighting its way over his mouth that he wasn't too hurt by her accusation. "I swear to you, however, that a lie will never come from these lips." He tilted his head, and there was sincerity in those green eyes, deep and pure, so much so that she could feel her cheeks heating.

Realizing she was staring, she quickly tore her gaze away, offering an awkward laugh and rubbing one hand over her forearm. She was grateful that the air here in the plains was cool at night, especially with the cold front drifting in from the all the rain in Giza. The gods—this was slightly embarrassing. Larsa was no more than a boy, and yet he could fluster her so easily. Maybe it was because she dealt with Vaan all the time, who was crude and didn't have an easy way with words, unlike Larsa, who made everything sound smooth and just… beautiful. Like a true noble.

"Do you really mean that?" she asked without thinking it through first, then gave a wince. Had she really just voiced that insecurity? Facing up to it, she turned her head back in his direction, offering a weak smile.

"Yes," he promised. She noticed with surprise that a bit of red colored his cheeks, as well, and somehow it made her pleased. At least she wasn't the only one who got nervous whenever they were around each other.

"Well, uh… I guess I have to say thank you," she said, adding a tease to her tone to take the sudden tension off the conversation. It brought an immediate frown of indignation from Larsa, and she giggled at the sight of it, biting into her lower lip.

"You guess?" He sighed heavily, but it was a bit on the dramatic side, so she could tell that he was teasing her right back. "A shame… a true shame…"

"Oh, come on, I'm sure you've heard worse!"

"Mmm, no. Those who would find fault with my intentions are usually—how shall I put it—_subtle _in their words of insult."

Penelo gaped at him then, placing her hands on her hips. "Hey, I wasn't insulting you!"

"Mmm, right, sure."

She scowled, crossing her arms over her chest instead, feeling her good mood wither into something bitter as she realized that he was walking ahead of her now, not bothering to spare her a glance back. Huffing slightly, she picked up her pace, falling back into step with him, reaching out to touch his elbow. Did he really think that she was insulting him?

"Really, Larsa, I wasn't insulting you."

"That would be _Lord _Larsa, and I pray that you remember it."

That's when Penelo saw the sly look he was giving her out of the corner of his eye, and when she whirled ahead of him to look him dead in the face, she also caught the smirk that was spreading rapidly across his lips. They stared at one another for a moment, Larsa trying not to laugh and Penelo aghast that she had played into his hand so easily, before the blonde dancer reached out and tweaked his nose _hard _between her thumb and forefinger.

"_Ow_!" he yelped, swatting at her hand.

"And that would be '_Please _forgive me, Lady Penelo, for being so rude to you'!"

"I don't sound like that, do I?"

"Would I _lie _to you, _Lord _Larsa?"

"Penelo, I was only—"

"That's _Lady _Penelo."

"Pe—Lady Penelo, please!"

His expression was openly pleading with her as he sought to rectify the situation, green eyes wide in his face and his lips slightly parted as he stretched a hand towards her. Finally a smile twitched at her mouth, breaking her straight face, and she burst into another round of giggles, placing a reassuring hand against his shoulder.

"Oh, I'm just kidding, too, Larsa!"

"O-Oh," he said, surprised, before he covered it up with a rather lame, "I-I knew that, of course."

"Hahaha, come on, why don't you show me what you wanted me to see?"

Larsa cleared his throat, regaining some semblance of his composure. "Oh, yes, of course, right this way."

She didn't bother hiding a grin as she followed him the rest of the way out of the village. And when he would send her a questioning look, the grin only grew.


	2. Many a Confession

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Final Fantasy XII_; it belongs to Square Enix. I am not making any money off this fanfiction.

-o-o-

_**Author's Notes… **_

Thanks for the reviews last chapter, everyone! I was really surprised—I had expected to get less, because I wasn't sure if I had these two down right or not, but everyone's reviews definitely encouraged me to continue. (Although I probably would have done so, anyway, but shh).

So here is the next part to _Choice of Words_, and I hope everyone enjoys.

-o-o-

_**Choice of Words**_

**Part Two**

Many a Confession

-o-o-

"It's right through here, Penelo. Do you need any help?"

Penelo shook her head, climbing up onto the small boulder without too much trouble and then hopping down on the other side. Her dancer abilities made the landing a bit smoother than Larsa's had been, and she swiped her dirty palms over her shorts before pushing stray wisps of hair out of her eyes. One braid was already coming undone from how the brush had tugged at it. Somehow some rock had gotten stuck in her boot. The white lace on her sleeve was kind of torn…

She sighed, looking across to the prince. "What were you doing to find this sort of place, Larsa?" she asked, a hint of irritation creeping through her voice. They had already almost been trounced on by a viper, rushed straight through some well-concealed trail that had long been overgrown with little trees and brambles, and yet through all of that her companion still looked as pristine as ever. It figured. Even nature didn't try to mess with such "perfection".

"Well, admittedly I had not planned for us to get so…" She watched as he fished for words, twirling a hand through the air before calmly tucking some of his ebony hair behind his ear. "Well—lost."

"We're _lost_?!" Penelo screeched, feeling a sharp dagger of panic slice into her. She took several steps forward, grabbing Larsa by the shoulder with a firm grip, for a moment, just a moment, forgetting that he was royalty, born at the hands of the empire. "I thought you just said it was 'right through here'?!"

Larsa's eyes widened at her anger, and he quickly disentangled himself from her, brushing her hand off and straightening his tunic. Frustration passed through his eyes, and he opened his mouth as if he was going to say something rather snappy, but he seemed to stop himself in the nick of time and instead lowered his head. "…I _think _it is right through here, at any rate."

He didn't add the silent _I hope_.

With a hiss of breath between gritted teeth, Penelo looked away, kicking at a tree root. She tried to calm herself, because Larsa had. Larsa could have given her a harsh reprimand for handling him in such a manner, considering most people didn't even _touch _him, but he hadn't. She had to be like Larsa—she had to be the better person, too. Besides, bickering wasn't going to get either of them anywhere.

"Okay, so how do you think we got off track?"

"It wasn't dark when I journeyed through this area the first time," Larsa explained hastily, something like relief in his tone. "I thought perhaps I would be able to find it again without so much difficulty, but it seems that I was wrong. I am sorry, Penelo…" It was his turn to look away.

"No, don't be sorry," she sighed. "It was probably because of that monster." She glanced over to him, raising an eyebrow. "Right? We did get a long ways off course."

Larsa blinked at that, hesitantly returning his gaze to her, and when he saw her giving him a smile, albeit faint, his own usual smile began to pull at the corners of his mouth again. "Not too terribly off course, I hope."

"Well, either way, I'm sure we can find it again. You said you think it's through here?" Penelo came close to him again, but this time without menace in her step, so he didn't tense or try to pull away from her presence. "Lead the way."

"Yes," he replied, and then he surprised her by holding his hand out to her palm up. When Penelo gave him an odd look, he muttered, his eyes darting to the side, "I thought perhaps I could help you through the brush this time. You are a lady, after all."

That made Penelo's smile return, this time in full force. It was typical boy behavior to forget to help the girl out, even from someone in high stature as Larsa. The thought made her heart warm all over again. Larsa was still so _young_. It was easy to forget when he acted so mature, like he was already a grown man.

"Well, if you insist," she said, placing her slightly callused hand into his gloved one. If he didn't care about getting the cloth dirty by the dust and slight blood on her hand, then neither did she.

-o-o-

The two walked for some time, more slowly because they didn't have the pressing issue of fangs at their backs. It seemed that the monsters hadn't discovered this place, either, and Larsa had already pointed to a few landmarks he could make out through the dark that he had seen earlier in the day.

It was growing cooler out, but neither of them seemed to mind. With the moonlight's gentle rays guiding their way and the soft murmur of their conversation in their ears, it was easy to forget the temperature, the tomorrow, the future that waited for them, shrouded in mystery. Back in Bhujerba, they hadn't had much time to really _talk _about anything outside of politics and Penelo's capture and the manufactured nethicite. But now they could, immersing themselves in tales of each other's childhood, taking comfort in the fact that they were both alike and different in so many ways that it brought an altogether sense of completion.

Penelo couldn't remember the last time she had spoken to someone with such ease. Their journey aside, Vaan wasn't much of a conversationalist these days. He preferred to go on about being a sky pirate, and Penelo was only there to get him out of trouble. While she worked for Migelo, she didn't have the energy at the end of the day to go trouncing about, looking for treasure, or, more importantly, trouble. That had always been Vaan's number one priority—getting back at the empire. And while she didn't blame him, Penelo preferred to relax once in a while, make sure she didn't get killed. Maybe she hadn't been a part of the rebellion, at least not actively, but at least she was alive.

Beside her, Larsa laughed a little, still clutching her fingers in his own even though they had long escaped the brush and were now passing through open plains. Though the plains weren't as widespread as farther out into the Ozmone, instead rather small and secluded, like Larsa had informed her previously.

"You should have seen the look on his face. He was quite shocked! I was too, though," Larsa admitted. "Who would have thought that—" He trailed off at seeing her slightly dreamy smile and the glazed look in her eyes before murmuring carefully, "Penelo?"

At the sound of his voice, she blinked, snapping out of it, bringing her gaze back from a stretch of cliff wall and to the concerned green eyes watching her. "I'm sorry. I was thinking about how beautiful this place was."

"Oh." Larsa blinked, surprise flickering through his eyes. "I… Well…" Now there seemed to be a thin line of red forming on his cheeks, and Penelo tilted her head, wondering what on earth he was blushing for and why. "Well—that is one of the reasons that I wanted to show you where we are going. It is quite beautiful out here, certainly. Although—" He paused, going quiet for a moment, before a slight smirk quirked at the corners of his mouth. "It was not this radiant during the day."

She furrowed a brow, her mind's eye replaying that smirk, and she couldn't help but compare it to the small one she had seen Vayne give at his ceremony weeks ago. They truly were brothers, it seemed, Vayne and Larsa Solidor. She would like to think, however, that their personalities were different. It seemed that way, but sometimes Larsa surprised her. Like when he had spoken of his brother and their household with such reverence… It was clear that, despite the fact that he had arrived to accompany them today, Larsa was fond of his older brother.

Penelo frowned without realizing it, lowering her gaze to the ground as she walked, pondering. What must it be like, knowing that your beloved brother had intentions to—to what? They didn't even really know. Larsa seemed to, though. Manufactured nethicite… real nethicite. Princess Ashe intended to claim the rights to it as the heir of the Dynast-King.

Nethicite… the source of so much trouble…

Poor Larsa.

"What are you thinking about?" came his voice from beside her, quiet now, carrying a hint of concern.

She blinked, snapping out of her thoughtful daze, swinging her head around to peer down at the prince. His green eyes roved over her face, and the light blush that had tinged his cheeks earlier was gone.

"You," she confessed, watching his eyes widen again. It seemed that she was full of surprises tonight.

"What about?" he ventured to ask after a careful moment, pursing his lips, shifting his gaze to the ground like Penelo had done moments ago. "…I am not so interesting."

"That's not true!" Penelo gasped, shocked that her friend would say such a thing. Pulling her hand from his, she instead rested it against his shoulder, leaning down so that their faces were nearer to one another. "I—I think you're interesting! Would I have come out here with you if I thought you were nothing but a brainless snob of the emperor?"

Larsa gave a short burst of laughter, like he was amazed that he had even given it. "A… brainless snob of the emperor?" he quoted.

Feeling awkward suddenly, Penelo hastily withdrew her hand. "You know what I meant." Before her friend could respond to that, however, something occurred to her, something that should have been made obvious an hour or so ago. "Oh, no!" she cried. "Larsa, we should have told Vaan and the others that we were leaving!" She made to turn around, her heart beginning to beat faster in a surge of panic. "We should head back—they're probably looking for us."

Fingers seized her elbow, and she stopped dead in her tracks, looking down to the hand clamped on her arm. The white glove withdrew immediately, and then Larsa shifted, the tips of his ears red.

"Your pardon," he apologized. "I hadn't meant to grab you so roughly, Penelo."

"I—It's okay," she stuttered, still amazed that he had sought to stop her with such desperation and force behind his touch.

"No, I'm afraid it's not," he replied, looking up into her eyes with an earnestness that hadn't been there before. "Please, Penelo—let us keep moving forward. We're almost there. Would it not be rather pointless to turn around now? To have come all this way, and for nothing?"

"Not nothing. I mean, we've spent plenty of time talking together, and we saw all of this so far…" Penelo bit anxiously at her bottom lip, flicking her eyes in the direction that they had come from. She could already imagine Vaan tearing up the plains in a desperate search for her, only not to find her because they had already traipsed everywhere, screwing up the pattern of the trail, in the end venturing off through some concealed shrubbery.

"Penelo," he pleaded, grasping for her hand this time, and she tensed, having not expected it or the way he was looking at her. "This is very important to me."

"But why?" Letting him have her hand, she furrowed her brows and took a cautious step forward. "Why is this so important, Larsa?"

He lowered his eyes, frowning, his hair sliding forward to hide portions of his face from view. "Because…" he said after a moment's pause. "Penelo, might I tell you something without it upsetting you? At least, not too badly, I hope… In fact, I would rather it did not upset you at all, but I will understand if it is too hard to accept."

Having a strange inkling of where this was going, Penelo dared to prompt him, "Sure, Larsa, you can tell me anything." She smiled encouragingly, but it felt kind of tight, her mind whirling with what he was about to tell her. The possibilities were slim, so it wasn't that hard to really start to figure it out. She should have seen this coming an hour or so back, when he had offered to hold her hand during the passage through the brush.

"Very well then."

Clearing his throat, he lifted his head again, revealing a serious face—determined eyes, pursed mouth, one brow lowered over the bridge of his nose. And then he came out with it, smoothly, just like normal, but his words still took her completely by surprise.

"I like you, Penelo."


	3. Mixed Feelings

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Final Fantasy XII_, nor am I making any money off this fanfiction.

-o-o-

_**Choice of Words**_

**Part Three**

Mixed Feelings

-o-o-

"_I like you, Penelo." _

Penelo blinked, her mind not quite digesting what her friend had just told her. She didn't quite stare at him, more like just looked, one brow furrowing as thoughts whirled inside her mind. _Larsa's twelve. He just told me he liked me. What does that mean? Wait, "what does that mean?" _She gave a mental smack to herself, then shook her head and forced herself to concentrate. _Okay. Now—Larsa's twelve. He just told me he liked me. What does that mean? Aaaand we're going in a circle! _

Licking his lips and twisting his fingers in a nervous fashion before himself—which was unusual, considering he was normally so composed—Larsa tilted his head up at her. "Penelo?" he inquired, his voice soft now, as if afraid he was going to break through some rather thin ice.

_Penelo, say something! _

"Gwargh," she choked, and when she heard the noise echo in the chilly air around them, she could have died. What had _that _been? "I—I mean," she began to amend hastily, "Well—Larsa, that's—uhm… are you sure?" What the hell kind of question was that, anyway? Oh, well, at least it was something. She couldn't stand around looking stoned forever.

_Dear gods above, the youngest prince of the Archadian Empire just confessed that he fancied me. _Her mind could barely wrap around the thought; later would she even be able to admit it aloud? Or, scratch that, this was probably something that she _definitely _needed to keep secret. The last thing she needed was the emperor breathing down her neck about how she was a lowly Dalmascan dancer that lived near the slums of Rabanastre, and how his pristine little boy who would someday, perhaps if Vayne did not get there first, rule Archadia could not _possibly _be involved with her.

It was as simple as that, making her mind up for her. She had to turn him down.

"I am very sure," Larsa was already replying to her previous question, taking a step forward, his green eyes searching hers for any sign of rejection. She tried to keep her expression blank, not wanting to give anything away just yet, but her friend had always been too observant. "…Penelo, I realize that—protocol requires me to find someone of noble blood to wed when I become emperor—"

_When I become emperor. No doubt in his mind there. Guess we really are going to take care of Vayne… _

"—and it has also come to my attention that you are four years older than me. However, I am nearing thirteen years in a few short months, and this is an acceptable age in our cultures."

Penelo raised her eyebrows, her lips parting in surprise, before she shook her head again and stepped nearer to him, placing a hand upon his shoulder. When he lowered his eyes, she sighed and raised her other hand to his hair, stroking through ebony strands. She was aware that she might be giving a wrong indication of what she was going to say next, but she couldn't help but to help soothe the boy's feelings over. "For marriage, it's an acceptable age," she corrected. "And we're not getting married."

"I do not appreciate your tone, Penelo," he replied, and it shocked her even further as she heard the slight snip in it. The boy straightened, his features becoming more regal as he brushed his bangs out of his eyes and tilted his chin up. "I realize that I am still a child, but I—"

"Oh, Larsa, I didn't mean it like that," she sighed, withdrawing her hands and folding them in front of her, unsure of what to do with them now. "I just—what do you want me to say?"

"I want you to accept my feelings," he stated plainly.

She couldn't help the blush creeping along her cheeks, even now. "Larsa…"

He took advantage of her hesitation by taking another step forward, slipping his hands around her own, holding them with a gentle pressure as he tilted his head again. "Yes? I am aware of our different statuses in life, as well, Penelo, but… laws can be changed."

Unable to stop a laugh bubbling up in her throat, she squeezed her eyes shut and bowed her head, not sure what to do at this point. Larsa was way too young to even be _considered _in her non-existent romance life, and yet here he was, coming up with every reason in the book that they were perfectly okay to be together. This was insane. They barely knew one another, let alone had spent a proper amount of time together, and oh, shit, who was she to even know social intricacies but…

"Please do not dismiss my feelings so easily. You know that I do not act on impulse," he assured her, closing the last of the distance between them, boots crunching on a few stray rocks. "I have thought long and hard on this and observed the options from every angle."

"Larsa, I didn't even say that _I _liked _you_," she pointed out, half-expecting his shoulders to droop, but if anything this statement made him more determined.

"But you have not said that you do not," he returned.

Penelo took her hands from his, turning away, curling one hand around her upper arm. This was ridiculous—why were they even having such a conversation? "You're so young, Larsa."

"Perhaps that is true, but inside I am not a child."

"You have your moments," she said wryly, thinking back to the earlier brambles and his later offer to help her, but only after she had endured the worst of them.

"At least consider it!" he insisted, gripping at her elbow, tugging her around to face him, but not too forcefully. When she refused to meet his gaze, he pressed onward, "I am aware that you like me, too, despite what you say. Like how you are blushing right now—you would be more repulsed or amused that I had confessed such a thing if you did not have remotely any feelings for me."

"I couldn't find you repulsive!" she cried before she could think better of it, and just for a moment something triumphant flickered through Larsa's eyes. She looked away, biting her teeth into her lower lip before whispering weakly, "Why me?"

"Because—feelings for someone are a fickle thing, are they not? They cannot be… controlled as well as we would like them to be." He finished this last bit softly, and when she glanced at him again he was already turning away, walking down along the path, curling one hand around his elbow. "Penelo, I understand your ire."

"But I'm not—" she began, starting after him, only to be gently interrupted. 

"Perhaps… _distressed _would be a better word, then." Larsa stopped a few feet away from her, but he kept his back to her, peering off into the distance. "…It saddens me that you feel so vehemently against this matter. I did not wish for this to happen—I only sought to tell you of my feelings. I felt as if they were becoming too stifling to keep inside of me any longer; they were searching desperately for a way out."

Guilt slammed into her as steadily as if Larsa himself had hit her. She stared as the wind played with the boy's hair, sending strands behind him to wisp through the air. She hadn't _meant _to sound vehement—was she? She just… She just didn't agree with… this entire situation. If someone had told her the day before that Larsa harbored more feelings for her than a simple crush, she would have brushed it off all too easily. But now—it was odd. She couldn't exactly just say that Larsa was merely infatuated with her. He didn't have a love-struck, puppy-eyed face when he gazed at her. There was only tranquility in those green irises, as if daring her to contradict him. As if daring her to tell him that he was absolutely wrong about what his heart sang to him.

It was at moments like these that Penelo wondered if Larsa was only a child, after all.

"Excuse me, then, for assuming poorly of your conviction," Penelo replied in as highly a proper voice as she could manage. It earned a glance at her from over Larsa's shoulder, and she gave him a hesitant smile. "To call a man a liar to his face when he professes his adoration to a lady is as to strip him of his pride." Since she couldn't courtesy with her current attire, she swept a hand before her instead and bent forward, but not enough for a full bow.

Larsa had whirled around to face her now, something hopeful in his eyes, and when he spoke again he sounded slightly breathy, "Perhaps this lady does not think of me as poorly as she imagines. Perhaps she understands my passion for her, my desire to keep her by my side." He held out his hand to her for the second time, still palm-up, still ready to wrap his fingers steadily around her own. "Always."

She watched his hand, debating, not sure if she should take it or not. To do so would mean that she had indeed accepted his feelings. The question was still whether or not she had. But if she took back what she said now, then that would have been to lie to him beforehand. And besides… with him searching her face carefully again for any sort of rejection, she couldn't deny him merely this. Let the boy have his fun—they were living during hard times. After everything was all over, he would forget and continue on further down his line of duty.

Letting her lips quirk up into a smile, she placed her hand against his, her fingers sliding against the fabric of his glove.

"Lady Penelo, I will not do you any harm or wrongness," he whispered, lifting her hand and pressing his lips along the back of it, and a shiver crept down her spine despite herself. She couldn't necessarily say it was a bad reaction, either. "I will always stand steadfastly by your side in return. You will not know any agony—nothing will ail you while you are with me. I pledge this to you now—I swear that not a lie falls from these lips."

Dear gods, this was more than merely _liking _her—Larsa had just confessed his undying love for her.

"L-Larsa," she stuttered, not sure if she had ever blushed this hard before in her life, not even when Vaan had gotten a little drunk and his hands had wandered where they shouldn't have. "I… I don't know what to say."

"The only thing that you could further say that could possibly make me any happier than at this moment would be for you to say that you feel the same in return," he said, straightening and giving her fingers a squeeze before he released them. When she opened her mouth to protest, he smiled. "Penelo—I understand that this will not be the case for some time. But until then, I will content myself with knowing that you are not angry with me and that you understand that I intend to keep you as my own."

She wanted to say, _"What if I never feel for you that way?" _but she couldn't bring herself to. Not with how confident Larsa was about himself—it was strangely fascinating to hear him say such things. He truly did not have a doubt within himself that he would have her entirely at some point in his life. Either it was completely foolish and naive or just the opposite. She couldn't tell. She didn't want to right now. She'd think about it later when her heart wasn't pounding so hard and her head didn't hurt so much.

"Okay," she finally managed to get out, albeit weakly and with a bit of a croak to her voice. She swallowed, rubbing a hand over her throat, before she offered the boy before her a returning smile. "Now where were you going to take me?"

"Right this way," he replied, taking her hand in his own again and tucking it at his elbow. He didn't move until she gripped at it, and then he was striding forward, chin held prominently in the air. He certainly did look like a prince right then. "Oh, I pray that you do not trip there, Penelo, you ought to be careful—there is a large rock… ah, there."

With his help, Penelo dodged out of the way just in time, telling herself vehemently to pay more attention to where she was going. It was like she was in a daze now, one that she couldn't quite shake off so easily. Gods above, was she _supposed _to be this lightheaded now that someone—the emperor's son, of all people—had confessed such strong feelings towards her?

"We are almost there," he assured her. "It will not be long now."

Their other party members were most likely searching the grounds high and low for them at this point. Despite the fact that Larsa's fingers were potion-happy and that Penelo had some formidable magic at her disposal, without the whole group there wasn't much that the two could do against a _real _encounter with a monster. They had barely gotten away from that viper!

Larsa seemed completely at ease with the situation, however, Penelo found upon inspection. He kept chatting with her despite the fact that she wasn't giving her half of the conversation, and his gait was relaxed, casual, as if he had no worries in the world. Great. That just meant that Penelo would have to work twice as hard at keeping the two of them aware of their surroundings. The last thing they needed was to die out here in the far reaches of the plains and never be discovered again because their friends would never be able to find them.

_This was a stupid idea, _she thought, wanting to turn herself around, to head back to camp where it was undeniably safer there. She wished she had half of Larsa's enthusiasm for this trip.

"Ah, look." Finally Larsa drew to a halt, pointing to the horizon where a rising of cliffs faced them, but Penelo thought she could see an oval-ish outline in the dark—a cave, maybe? "Here we are."

Skeptical, Penelo released the prince's elbow, her other hand reaching for the mallet at her hip. It never hurt to show some caution, right? What if there was a nest of monsters within that cave? Then what would they do? Run like hell, she supposed.

"Penelo, it is not so dangerous—I already scouted the perimeter earlier," Larsa said from behind her, no doubt trying to be reassuring.

"Just the perimeter?" Shaking her head, she advanced on the cave, withdrawing her weapon and readying a magic spell at her fingertips, feeling the warmth of fire rush to her palm. She squeezed her fingers over the burning power, not quite ready to unleash the magic to its full potential—no use draining herself if Larsa was right, after all, and things were indeed safe.

"Just wait a moment!"

She didn't slow down; in fact, she did quite the opposite, quickening her speed until she was at the cave's entrance. Now she let her magic reign free, thrusting out her hand so that fire spread outwards in a flash of heat, spiraling back into a globe that floated over her palm like a miniature sun. This would be her torch against the darkness, because they would be unlikely to see within this place otherwise.

"Penelo!"

A shadow moved against the glare of her spell—no, two of them, spiky and large, rising towards the ceiling of the cavern and shifting, at times blending together. Penelo swallowed hard, her heart thundering in her chest as she squeezed her fingers tightly around the pommel of her weapon, and yet she could not bring herself to run forward into a charge. Was she really this weak without the aid of her friends at her back?

"Larsa, there's something here," she whispered, too afraid to raise her voice much louder than that.

"Of course there is," he replied, stepping beside her and taking hold of her elbow this time. "Put your weapon away, you are scaring them."

"_Scaring _them?" Disbelieving, Penelo gaped at the prince, pointing her weapon out to where the shadows were. "They're—"

"Chocobos, and they do not respond well to hostility," Larsa interrupted her, his green eyes watching hers carefully over the flickering fire spell. "Please—put your weapon away."

"Chocobos?" Feeling faint, Penelo numbly did as instructed, placing her weapon back in its holster and turning towards the back of the cavern again, kicking sand up with her boots. "You found chocobos? Like the ones out in the plains, or…?"

"They are not wild," Larsa assured her, laughing a little and releasing her, calmly brushing his bangs out of his eyes. "I think that someone abandoned them—that, or that someone got carried away by vermin much stronger than him…"

Repressing a shudder, Penelo held her flame up higher so that she could find the birds, seeing them now that she wasn't so fixated on the shadows that they had cast. They were a golden pair, their heads tilted curiously as they watched her, and one ruffled its feathers and let out a soft, "Kweh."

"I… thought that, perhaps, we could ride them back and give them to Gurdy—that chocobo collector at the front of the village?" Biting into his lower lip, Larsa began to peel off his gloves, starting with one finger and working down each hand until he pulled the silken cloth off altogether.

"Bareback?" Unsure, Penelo stayed rooted firmly to the ground now, not wanting to follow her companion just yet. What if something went wrong? What if the birds weren't as gentle as they looked and attacked them or something? Chocobos could be quite vicious when they were untamed.

"Certainly." Here Larsa sent her a smile over his shoulder, something that made him look older than his years and more on the mischievous, manipulative side. "Are you ready, Penelo?"

_Not really_, she thought, but she began to follow her friend, anyway. _Here's hoping that this entire situation doesn't blow up in our faces. _

There was something in Larsa's gaze, however, that told her differently. Maybe, if she just allowed herself to, she could have some fun, after all.

And so, taking a deep breath, Penelo braced herself for a potentially dangerous situation that might not be so bad in the first place.


	4. Sitting by the Fire

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Square Enix's _Final Fantasy XII_, nor am I making any money off this fanfiction.

-o-o-

_**Author's Notes… **_

I'm sorry it took a while to get this part out. I was working on my other projects, and I didn't want to rush this. But I hope everyone enjoys now that it's finally here.

Thanks for everyone and their continuous support!

-o-o-

_**Choice of Words**_

**Part Four**

Sitting by the Fire

-o-o-

"I am glad that we are taking a momentary break," Larsa murmured, finding a large damp stone and frowning at it before he hefted himself up, pushing his hair back out of his eyes. His sigh echoed into the reaches of the cave, and once he had finished smoothing out his clothing, he said, quietly and with a trace of sadness, "I must admit that I had never imagined gallivanting around in the wilds like this. I have pebbles and sand in my boots, and my clothes are getting torn, and I feel generally ill from that long walk." A faint smile touched his mouth. "How long did it take you to get used to this, Penelo?"

Penelo finished with the fire that she had started—she had gotten some reasonably dry wood from the brushes nearby the entrance to the cave—and straightened her back, clapping her hands to get rid of the dirt. "After the war…" she began slowly, softly, not missing how Larsa glanced away, "there wasn't much that we could do aside from gathering our hopes together and sticking it through. Many of us died because we were starving and could not find a kind hand to lend us food. The rest of us were fortunate enough to either find a home to take us in or to find someone who was willing to help us. Like Migelo—he's helped me so many times… without him, I wouldn't be able to get on my feet."

She turned slowly, lifting her gaze to the outside, where the wind stirred through the trees lining the cliff faces, making the bare limbs of the brush rub together in a noisy rustle. Then, as she began to mull over the past, the brush and the grass and the inky sky disappeared, replaced by the memory of being cold and hungry… and so very tired… The dirty faces of the other children from then—even today—their eyes filled with despair. They were lost, their families dead, and in losing them they had also lost their spirit. The spirit to survive.

Blinking suddenly, she was surprised to feel the sharp burn of tears, and she hastily wiped them away, not wanting Larsa to see her pain. "Well," she concluded, her voice only slightly wavering, "a little dirt never hurt anyone."

"Penelo," Larsa breathed, but she didn't look back to him, dismayed that her cheeks were growing wet. She lifted her chin even as her lips trembled, trying to be strong. Why would she break down now, after she had seen and bore so much? Was one tiny glimpse into her past enough to put her into this emotional condition? If so, she needed to work on blocking those feelings out more. Or… not even that. Just to remember those feelings and hold them close to her heart, to let them make her stronger that way.

"_Never forget who you are inside, Penelo," _she could still remember her mother telling her as she brushed her hair with only gentle tugs, displaying the utmost care. _"Even if it hurts to breathe because it can get so bad to remember—you mustn't forget. You will lose yourself that way. You will lose your goals, your standpoints. Everything will blur together and become nothing. This is the way that everyone loves you—compassionate. Headstrong. Kind." _Her mother's blue eyes had crinkled around the corners as she had put the brush to the side, placing her hand over Penelo's cheek and tilting her head back to look at her.

"_One day you will find someone to appreciate you as the way you are. Let anything that comes your way make you stronger. All right, darling?" _

"Okay," Penelo breathed aloud, blinking slowly, almost unaware of the tears that left her eyes. But then she sniffled, looking down as sobs wracked her shoulders, and she buried her face in her hands, sinking to her knees.

Everything hurt. Her body, her spirit, her heart. The journey that she had embarked on with Vaan and the others had almost given them to the hands of death time and time again. And then, in the Lhusu Mines, with the Bangaas… how many times had she clung tightly to her burning hope that Vaan would come save her despite what had been told to her otherwise? That hope had been the only thing to keep her going. Was that how it was always going to be, though? Hope?

No, now she also relied on her wits, her magic, the strength behind her weapon. Without these things, she probably would have died long ago. She didn't want to be a burden to her friend, and so she had to stop crying and keep going on. But if this was so, why couldn't she make the tears stop? Why did her heart grieve so badly? All she wanted was a release from this pain, but there was nothing to give it. They were outlaws now, plain and simple… still, though, they had to do what was right. Even if it meant sacrificing themselves in the process. Even if it meant losing a little bit of themselves over time, over each battle.

A hand settled on her shoulder, warm and comforting, and when Larsa carefully lowered himself to kneel beside her and pull her into an embrace, she clung to him fiercely, sobbing openly into his chest, her body shaking almost violently as each breath tore itself from her lungs. She feared that the tears might never end, that Larsa might grow weary and withdraw, but he stayed put the entire time she cried, his fingers threading through her hair, and then, after a time, his lips finding her temple, placing a delicate kiss to it.

He said nothing, but then, she didn't want him to. She took comfort in the silence that stretched between them, filled only with the crackling embers of the fire and the moan of the wind outside and her ceaseless sobs. An indeterminable amount of time passed before she was finally able to get a hold of herself, her eyes swollen and her tears drying in streaks on her face. Larsa still continued to hold her for a long time after that, rocking her gently, his cheek resting against her hair.

When she had mostly quieted, giving the occasional sniffle, he whispered so softly that she almost missed it, "Penelo… it is… it is going to be all right. I promise you."

If anyone else had said these words, she might not have believed them. But coming from Larsa, she felt like he was right—that everything _would _be all right, even if only for a little while.

-o-o-

"Are you all right now?" Larsa whispered as Penelo withdrew from his embrace. He had long settled on the ground with her, not seeming to mind the dust that was caking the floor, along with all of the dirt. The fire cast shadows over his face, but his eyes still seemed to shine despite this, looking almost amber because of how they reflected the flames.

"I'm fine," she laughed, trying not to feel embarrassed as she palmed her hands over her cheeks, giving a last sniffle. "You were a great help to me, Larsa. Thanks."

"It was my pleasure." He lowered his eyes, idly drawing a finger through the dirt, strands of his dark hair falling over his face. It was so mussed from their hike through the plains that it had nearly completely come out from its carefully groomed placement. It was cute on him, though. She thought that he should wear his hair so free more often, but he probably wouldn't. "I am terribly sorry, though, Penelo. Please accept my apologies—I never meant to make you cry."

"Oh, it was a long time coming, anyway," Penelo assured him, patting him on the head, and this time he didn't bristle or pull away, merely sighed. "Really, Larsa. It felt good to get it out."

Larsa lifted his head then, green eyes luminous. "Did it feel good to be held?" When Penelo stared at him, unsure of how to answer, Larsa offered her a vague smile, shrugging one shoulder. "I… I cannot remember the last time that I was held by anyone."

"Not even your mom?" Penelo gasped, scooting closer to him, leaning down a little so that she could better look him in the face.

"She died when I was a baby," Larsa murmured, starting to turn his head, but when Penelo touched his cheek, tilting it back to her, he let her, still keeping his gaze low. "When you started to cry, Penelo, I—I could not bear such a sight. You looked so… so lonely right then. I did what—well, I do not know what came over me. At that moment, all I could think of was to hold you close, to offer you some comfort against that pain… I only hope that it worked."

"It did," she assured him, pulling her hand away but only to lean in to plant a kiss to his cheek to reward him for his efforts. He turned his head, though, and met her halfway, and for a moment all she could feel were soft lips, warm and a bit wind-chapped.

It took a few moments for her brain to catch up with her racing heart, and when it did, she drew back, her eyes growing wide, alarmed as she touched her mouth. She stared at the prince, not sure what she was expecting to see—it definitely wasn't the faint smirk on his mouth, his eyes glittering with an inner mischief. The boy was only twelve, and he had manipulated such an innocent gesture into… into…!

Penelo got to her feet, not knowing what else to do. "Larsa…!" she tried, trailing off and shaking her head, covering her eyes with a hand. "…Larsa, what were you doing?"

"Forgive me," he said, and his fingers touched her elbow as he came to her side. This time when she looked to him, she found guilty eyes. "I should not have tricked you. I… I was merely curious, Penelo. Or—not even curious, but… wanting?" He hummed, closing his eyes and folding his arms. "I have never been kissed before, but I wanted to share my first with you. I knew that you would never allow me to under normal circumstances, and so I took a risk. Was it really so bad?" His eyes slipped back open, filled with an incredible sadness as they found hers.

"It was…" Penelo took a long time to think of what she wanted to say, rubbing her fingers into her brow and pursing her lips in concentration. A part of her wanted to scold Larsa, but after that passionate speech, it was hard to try. He was only twelve, and it was expected that he would be curious, especially since he was so infatuated with her. Still, though… "…It was unexpected," she said at last.

"But not unpleasant?" Larsa asked, and he sounded so hopeful that she couldn't bring herself to look at him.

"Larsa—you're _twelve_. It was—I was kissing a child. I'm not going to think about whether or not it was pleasant, because when it all gets down to it, you're just a boy." She heaved out a sigh and shook her head. "I'm your senior by quite a few years, okay? It's just—it's not right. Don't ask me. I respect your feelings, but on this one I'm going to have to put my foot down. I'm just going to pretend it didn't happen."

"You will pretend that it did not happen?" he replied, offended as his hand tightened around her elbow, but not painfully. "Penelo—that is not fair—"

"It wasn't fair of you to turn something intended innocently into—into—" Penelo gestured, trying to find a word. "—Into _that_," she finished, tossing her hands up. "Sure, maybe if you were a few years older or something, I wouldn't have minded kissing you, Larsa, but… you're so young. I mean, I know _I'm _young, too, but you're way younger! _Way _younger, and…" She trailed off from her rambling, burying her face in her hands again, her shoulders slumping. This night was taking a turn for the worse.

"…So it is my age that bothers you so?" he murmured, tilting his head, his eyes narrowing. "Is it not true that a kiss is just a kiss? You are not that much older than I, Penelo, and I also do not think it wise to compare me to others of my age." Then, more softly, "…I have had to grow up much more quickly than they have."

"It doesn't excuse the fact that you are still just a child, Larsa," she said firmly, unwilling to relent.

He turned away from her, the movement graceful, almost catlike. He straightened his shoulders, lifting his chin, and then gestured idly with one hand. "You barely gave it any consideration. You automatically assumed that it would be unwise to let me kiss you. But your first instinct was to not pull away… thus why you hesitated so clearly."

Penelo openly gaped at him, not entirely sure what she was hearing. "Hey, I was _shocked_, okay?! And I had every right to be! You're too clever for your own good, Larsa."

"I am clever now, is that it?"

"I think so," she retorted unrelentingly, refusing to back down on this matter. She was not going to let him win over something this trivial. "You think you're so grown up, Larsa, but a _real _man wouldn't have had to steal a kiss. He would have asked for one, or he would have assumed when it was safe to try and initiate one." She could feel her cheeks start to heat as she thought back to the few kisses she had ever received, but none of them had ever been quite so underhanded as this one. "Larsa, I'm barely just understanding that you say you harbor feelings for me. Isn't it just a bit fast to assume that I want to kiss you? Especially when you're so young?" She lowered her voice, coming up behind him to place a hand against his shoulder, feeling her expression soften, "Wouldn't you have wanted your first kiss to be… I don't know… honest?"

"The feelings that I had when my lips pressed to yours were honest," he whispered.

Penelo felt the first twinge of guilt then, jerking at her heart strings and whispering, _"The boy doesn't know any better, Penelo. Why must you be so hard on him?" _She supposed that normally she wouldn't, that she might have played along to let Larsa have his fun, only that was the thing—Larsa was absolutely serious about everything on this caliber. He wouldn't pass it off as a joke—he would no doubt take it seriously, holding her to her word. Hadn't he already confessed his undying love for her? But playing off a kiss, making it seem like it didn't even matter, was only hurting his feelings.

_Larsa is still a child_, she reminded herself, giving an inward sigh. _His feelings at this stage, like any boy of his age, are crucial right now. _

What if he developed some sort of complex later on with any woman he might harbor feelings for? Would he be too afraid to kiss her, lest she tell him he wasn't worthy of it? Which wasn't exactly what Penelo had done—she only had Larsa's best concerns at heart—but in his eyes, she supposed, it was damn near the equivalent of it. Larsa had just offered her his fragile, still blossoming heart, and she had stomped on it. And not once, but numerous times.

She winced, unable to believe what she was about to do. What could be the harm in it, though? Larsa would be back in Archadia soon enough, and he'd be taking his fantasies of Penelo with him. There would be no reason for him to remember the time he had spent with Penelo once things were said and done. That would be the end of it.

Taking a deep breath (and wondering why she was preparing herself for this), she cautiously stepped forward, placing a hand on the prince's shoulder and then sidestepping around him until she could lower herself to be eye level with him. Larsa raised his gaze, looking like a bruised and abandoned puppy, but when Penelo offered him a faint smile at the corners of her mouth, his whole face lit up.

"Penelo?" he asked, then stilled when her hands found his shoulders and squeezed gently. Soft confusion filled his expression. "Penelo…?"

She knelt on the cold earth, slipping her hands from his shoulders and down her arms as she did so, finally finding his hands and then curling around them and tugging. When he came near, she closed her eyes, tilting her head and waiting, wondering if he would question her now or ask his questions later, or if he'd even know what she was letting him do. Her own question was answered moments later as those wind-chapped lips lightly pressed to her own.

Larsa's fingers touched her cheek, then cupped against it, trembling just slightly, but she'd never tell a soul that they had been so that later he could keep his dignity. He kissed her a second time, lips moving carefully, almost experimentally, brushing against her upper lip before retreating and then covering her mouth fully. And so that he didn't feel insecure or lost, she kissed him back with what he had given her, gentle pressure, like they were both holding something very delicate and were afraid to let it drop.

He pulled back after a moment, inhaling deeply, and she opened her eyes to find him bowing his head, the tips of his ears a bright red. He had kneeled down, too, one of his hands still supporting his weight on the ground from where he had probably leaned up in order to reach her mouth. She fought the urge to ruffle his hair and instead placed a kiss to his cheek, smiling.

The guilt in her heart had eased up, leaving it warm and content, pleased. It hadn't been as bad as she had initially thought—in fact, it hadn't been unpleasant at all. One day, when Larsa grew into his body, becoming taller and filled out—not to mention older—he would have a chain of ladies behind him, all eagerly awaiting his undying attention. Penelo would be but a memory at the back of his mind, if she was even there at all.

Her heart gave an unexpected pang, and she frowned, rubbing a hand over it. It was true—so why was she bothered about it? Maybe it was because she knew she had touched his life, but she hadn't realized just how much he had touched hers in return.

Penelo placed a hand over her face, wetting her lips and considering. How much had she grown to like Larsa? Was she even willing to give him up in the future, however near or far in that might be? The answer was no, even though she didn't exactly have a choice. But then again, life worked like that, didn't it? Unfair, uncertain. She'd learn to deal with it in time.

"C'mon," she said, getting to her feet and holding out her hand for him to take it. Her knees felt stiff and cramped from kneeling on the ground for so long, and the cold that had suffused her bones wasn't helping, either. "Let's go."

Larsa raised his face, a question there.

She began walking to the tethered chocobos, petting one's glossy feathers when it accepted her presence and good intentions, no longer beadily eyeing her. She tossed a smile over her shoulder to the prince. "Well, you wanted to ride the chocobos and take them to Gurdy, right?"

He nodded, once, his eyes still dazed and lost.

Penelo patted the chocobo's side, her smile spreading when it nudged its head against her chest, seeking affection. "So let's go," she repeated.

"Thank you," she heard Larsa whisper a moment later as he shuffled to his feet.

She didn't respond, but then, she didn't really think she needed to. The blush on her cheeks to match the prince's spoke volumes on its own.


	5. And Now Our Time Alone Together Ends

**Disclaimer:**I do not own Square Enix's _Final Fantasy XII_, nor am I making any money off this fanfiction.

-o-o-

_**Author's Notes… **_

Eh heh… Wow, that took a long time to post up? I'm terribly sorry! Half of this was already done, and I don't know why I didn't finish the thing sooner. Ah, well. Though this is the end of _Choice of Words_, I plan on having a sequel type fic for them in the future. How does that sound? Yay, nay?

At any rate, thanks for all of you who have stood with me on this story from the beginning. You know, it's really a refreshing feeling to finish something!

-o-o-

_**Choice of Words**_

**Epilogue**

And Now Our Time Alone Together Ends

-o-o-

Larsa fished around in one of the pouches at his hip, finally withdrawing with a type of green. After a moment of scrutinizing it carefully, Penelo realized that it was a gysahl green. When he offered her half, she took it and turned to the chocobo she was tending to. It bowed its head with a soft "kweh", nipping gently at her fingers with its hard beak until she relented and gave up the treat. The golden bird immediately gobbled it up, cooing contentedly afterwards, and Penelo didn't stop a giggle that bubbled up from her throat.

"Wow, Larsa, you really do have just about everything ready to go, don't you?" she commented wryly, nudging him with her elbow. Larsa still wasn't really meeting her gaze, apparently embarrassed by what had transpired minutes ago. He kept himself busy with tending to the other chocobo, one that had a bit of brown flecks along its tail feathers. Which was odd, considering that chocobos—at least, not yellow ones—rarely ever looked mottled like that.

"It's kind of cute," Penelo hummed. Almost as if it had understood her, the chocobo fluffed its feathers and rose up high on its legs. Larsa was dismayed. He wasn't quite tall enough yet to reach the bird's beak when the chocobo was at its full height. "Oh, Larsa. Here." Taking the last half of the green from the prince, she held it up to the chocobo. It lowered its neck again, sniffing curiously at it before carefully extending its beak and then—

_**CHOMP!**_

She barely pulled her fingers back in time to avoid having them turned into a bloody mess. The chocobo eyed her beadily, its jaws moving as it munched on its treat, and Penelo scowled back at it. Planting her fists on her hips and huffing, she amended her earlier observation. "All right, all right! I'm sorry I called you cute. You're quite—er—handsome!"

The chocobo stopped looking at her so resentfully after that, and it began to search the ground and Larsa's pockets for any more tasty treats, of which it found none. The prince smiled, ruffling his fingers through the bird's golden feathers as his gaze grew distant. Penelo watched him for a long moment. She wondered if she should say something, after all, but nothing was coming to mind. Although it had been her idea to concede to a kiss, Larsa was the one who had initially started the whole situation… So why was he so quiet now? If anything, _she_should have been the one in a mental state of panic, worrying and fretting over what the hell had happened. Oh, wait. She had already.

"What are you thinking about, Larsa?" she ventured to ask, not sure if she wanted to know but figuring it was polite.

"Oh…" Her companion's cheeks were turning a suspicious shade of pink, and he busied himself like the chocobo had by tugging at his pouches to make sure they were properly in place. "Well… It embarrasses me to admit this, but—I cannot stop thinking of how warm your mouth was, Penelo."

Surprised at his honesty—and dismayed to find her own face flushing again—she quickly looked away and grasped onto the second chocobo. Why did it make her feel so flustered to hear that? It wasn't like she had lost anything when she had allowed Larsa to kiss her. He was twelve, so it should hardly matter. But… she was discovering more and more as the minutes passed that she was just as flustered and desperately awkward as he was. She tried to feel dirty about this revelation (shameful, at the least), and found that she couldn't. Faram, but what was wrong with her?

"Is that so?" she said at last, and rather lamely at that. What else was there to say, though?

"Yes," Larsa replied, and Penelo felt his hand touch her elbow. "I know I said this but moments ago, but—I thank you. Really. It means a lot to me that you would allow me to share such an experience with you." He hesitated before his gaze lowered. "This whole night has been wonderful, Penelo. And I know that you feel as if I am just a boy—and perhaps I am—but… still. Words cannot express the amount of happiness you have bestowed upon me tonight."

"Oh, uhm—no problem," she said awkwardly. Then, with her heart speaking without any consultation with her brain, "I—I've enjoyed myself tonight, too, Larsa. I know I've said that you're only twelve, and that, you know… we probably shouldn't have done that, but… I—I'm not sorry it happened." What was she _saying_? "I…" She sighed, her shoulders slumping in defeat, and meekly peered down at Larsa, who was eyeing her intently. "I can't stop thinking about the feel of your mouth, either…"

Those green eyes widened just slightly around the edges, as if in soft wonder. "Truly?" he whispered. His hand slid down Penelo's forearm to grasp onto her hand. "Penelo…" He smiled and hugged her close to bury his face in her neck, and she tentatively slipped her arms around him in return. Her fingers found a curious path into his hair, stroking the silky strands of ebony, while she stared at the far wall of the cave and wondered just what she had gotten herself into. Oh, she was definitely going to hell, that much was for certain.

"Thank you…" he said again, his voice a soft murmur against her neck.

"Why do you keep thanking me?" she asked. She laughed hollowly, and it faded as quickly as it had come. "You're welcome, Larsa."

"I keep thanking you because… you gave me the opportunity to experience this, as I've told you," he replied. He turned his head and rested his cheek against her shoulder instead. "I will be forever grateful."

"Nah, you'll just kiss the next girl and say the same thing to her," Penelo teased, trying to lighten the mood a little. She didn't want to admit herself just yet that she was as nervous as the prince was.

Larsa said nothing to that, however, and Penelo got the sinking feeling that he was no doubt plotting in that Plot-Easy mind of his. Manipulative, that's what that Solidor boy was, and Penelo regretted that she had allowed herself to forget it, time and time again. And now look where she was! Robbing babies from the cradle.

_It was just a kiss_, she told herself firmly. _And a peck on the mouth at that, nothing too action-y. Why do you keep wigging out? It's not like you did the Dastardly Deed with the boy! In which case, if that had happened, you would most certainly, yes, be going to hell. As it stands, however… a peck on the lips? Nothing to worry about. Keep your cool, Penelo. Keep your cool. _

"We should be getting back," Penelo said again. It was hard to ignore how Larsa's body felt against her own, a solid line of warmth to offer her comfort against the chilly night. As if the fire wasn't enough to do that for her. "I'm sure the others are probably worrying."

"You're right." He blessedly withdrew from his embrace and walked back to the moody chocobo. "Penelo, are you any good at riding a chocobo?"

"Actually… not really, no," she confessed, laughing and rubbing a hand over the back of her neck. "I'm much better with my feet on the ground." Flying around on the airships hadn't been so bad—but, for some reason, chocobos were another thing entirely. She had never quite been able to get the knack of riding them properly.

"Then we shall ride back on one together," Larsa said simply enough. He was already hauling himself up onto the bird's back as it bowed down for him. "Did you know that the yellow chocobos are the only ones that are able to be tamed?"

"That would explain why the black ones attacked us," she muttered. She took Larsa's proffered hand and used it to help pull her up behind him on the chocobo. It was harder than he had made it look, leaving her gasping for breath as she dutifully hooked her hands around his slim hips. "Larsa, why does everything you do seem so easy?"

"I haven't the faintest idea of what you're talking about," he replied, but the smirk he sent over his shoulder made his eyes twinkle with mischief.

"Right, uh huh."

It was a short trip back to Jahara. The two didn't say much on the way. Their time alone together was drawing to a close, and it was difficult to say anything when there was nothing to say at all. Their journey wasn't over, no. They still had to make it to the holy mountain. But what could be said outside of grounds they had already covered, again and again? Larsa was in love with Penelo. He intended to keep her by his side forever. Penelo knew that he was young and naïve in the ways of his infatuation, and that in time it would pass. She wished it wouldn't, deep inside—she wished that Larsa would go on loving her forever.

Such things were not meant to last, she'd learned. Perhaps if Larsa was an ordinary boy from the streets of Rabanastre, then maybe in the future—maybe… Well. It didn't do to speculate on it. Larsa_wasn't_an ordinary boy, and as soon as this journey was over, he'd be heading back to his country to take care of business there if the situation with Vayne could not be remedied. In time, he would be swamped with politics. In time, he would choose a wife worthy of Archadia. In time, he would forget Penelo.

And that was that.

-o-o-

"So why'd he take you alone?" Vaan's eyebrows arched in suspicion, and he nudged Penelo's side with his elbow as the rest of the party gained steps ahead of them. The day was cloudy, and Basch had already warned them not to stray too far lest a sylphi entite fell upon them.

"I don't know," Penelo lied. "You knew that we grew somewhat close after he saved me in Bhujerba. He doesn't know the rest of you as well, and he was worrying that he wouldn't fit in. You know, that Ashe would find it hard to be nonbiased toward him. I assured him that things were just fine." She shrugged. "It's really pretty simple."

"And that took the whole night?"

"Well, you know that we grabbed those chocobos he'd found earlier, too." When she saw the skeptical look Vaan was giving her, she frowned. "What? What do you _think_happened, Vaan? Why don't you tell me, since you don't seem to believe the_real_story?"

Vaan chuckled and ducked a swipe to his head. "I'm just saying that I think he likes you, is all. He keeps staring all stray-eyed at you. It's kind of gross as much as it is funny."

"He is _not_." She gestured to where the prince was conversing with Ashe. They were enthralled with whatever it was they were talking about, and _neither_of them was sparing a glance in Vaan and Penelo's direction. "See?"

"I meant this morning, when we were packing up after breakfast."

He had been, but she wasn't going to let Vaan knew that she knew that. "So what? I doubt it's because he likes me."

"Mmm, I don't know—he's probably thinking, 'Oh, Penelo—show me how to—' OW!! What the hell was _that_for, Penelo?!" Her friend clutched at his sandy hair and darted murderous looks in her direction as he dodged several paces to the side.

"Stop acting so jealous, Vaan, you look like an idiot."

"Me?_Jealous of Larsa_? He's what, ten?"

"_Twelve_," Penelo corrected. "And if you don't drop this subject, I'm going to hit you again."

"All right, all right," he griped. "I'll let it drop."

They were silent for maybe fifty feet before Vaan brought it up again, and the rest of the party had to jump out of the way as Penelo barreled through them with her mace raised, hot on Vaan's heels. No one really had a fair idea of what was going on, but they _did_know that Penelo planned on doing at least several brutal things to Vaan once she got her hands on him based on the curses she was laying on him.

It wasn't until they both headed back for their comrades before Vaan stopped picking the leaves out of his hair and Penelo let the steam stop gushing out of her ears. Everyone pretended that nothing out of the ordinary had happened. After all, the two often got in spats, so it wasn't like this was anything unusual. Still, though—Larsa managed to quit staring at Penelo in awe once Vaan gave him a light pop over the back of the head.

"First things first," he whispered for the prince's ears alone, "stop staring at her if you don't want your eyes gouged out. She hates it. Secondly? It also makes her feel good, so be sure to do it enough, just not enough to get hit."

Larsa blinked. "How am I to know when that is?"

Vaan's grin made Larsa swallow. "Through trial and error, of course."

The young prince of Archadia lowered his head, his eyes on his feet as he gave this some thought. He couldn't picture Penelo chasing him as she had just done with Vaan, but then again, he didn't particularly do anything to give her cause to. Not that that was enough reassurance… He would definitely have to be on his toes if he wanted to keep Penelo happy. After all, they had many years together ahead of them. He had better start bracing himself for the inevitable battles now.

He smiled to himself.

He was really going to love those battles.

"Larsa!" Penelo called. "Come on, slow poke!"

"Ah, I'll be right there!"

And he would be. Every step of the way, until Penelo realized that she loved him as well. He was bound and determined to have a happy ending. Penelo would just have to see, in time, that he was the one she wanted.

He only hoped that she realized it soon because he was tired of waiting already, and their journey together had only just begun.


End file.
